The Tale of Lowly Travelers: Burdened
by Wolfal E. Hinsley
Summary: Oneshot. The stories tell about the many wars fought in Hyrule and how the Hero always came to save it. Not many can say if the legend is true or not, but all of Hyrule carries their burdens in the wars that came and went. This is the tale of a few travelers in the midst of one of these dark times, and these are the burdens they carried.


**I Don't Own Legend of Zelda.**

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The Tale of Lowly Travelers: Burdened

It was a dark and unforgiving time in the land. Bloodthirst and sorrow ravaged through Hyrule without sign of end or peace. Each side pressed on. Each vowed their own revenge. The Hylian and Sheikah sought to fight for their goddess and the golden three. The dark ones, Yiga, beasts, and some unfaithful Gerudo swore to avenge the unjustly killed unaware that their wish for blood only favored the Malice One's plans. The Zora swore to Nayru. The Goron to Din. The Kokiri to Farore. On war ravished. So it was. So it had always been. For in Hyrule, as long as the curse remained, there was never truly peace.

There were spells of peace. Spells of prosperity as the people untied and became strong. All races and every tribe together as one. In those spells, those wonderful, blissful spells, their technology grew great. Their people became strong. They became one.

Then the curse would begin.

Every time things seemed to be better. Every time the hate had seemed to vanish. Demise would sense it and roar. He would growl and thrash at the races of Hyrule that he had grown to despise for their constant defeat of him. He hated one people above them all. The people of the White Goddess. The people of the Hero. And he would vow to tear them to pieces and avenge himself. And thus the cycle would start again. The Hero would see. The Goddess would too. They would return. And the wars would start all over again. Technology would fail them. They would become divided and at each other's throats. Accusing. All unaware that they were all mere players in a game the golden ones had formed since time began. A game between three. Two righteous, one not. A game that would never end. Not until time's end. No one knew how cruel it was. No one but three.

It was during Hyrule's many spells of war were the cycle resumed that it was seen that even in war there could be some comfort. During the war, there was a small camp of lowly travelers who had all come and gathered near a certain ranch for refuge. There were many races and people. Some tall, some not. Some fought for the evil and some for Hylia. Some were soldiers, and some were children. It was in this place were the peace seemed to remain. For at that camp, everyone gathered because they were tired. None of them had the strength to fight or argue. So, instead, like travelers do, they all sat around their campfires and made merry. Each of them gathered strength for the battles that had to be fought the next day. All held to the silent truce, knowing that when tomorrow came, the war still continued. Everyone of them forgot their burdens, if only for a few moments, to sit and wonder why they fought as they did.

And that was how this story began.

At a particular campfire at this campsite sat a rather odd group. There was a Goron brother, tall and proud. There was a wandering soldier, who swore to Hylia. There was a Gerudo thief, who wished to gamble her plunders. There was a orphan boy, who had nothing to lose. There was a Zora soldier, who dreamt of his return to the river. There was a Sheikah spy, who held secrets for Zelda. There was a Yiga scout, who sought to find the hero reborn. There was a Hylian farmer, who's home had been destroyed. They shared this fire, both enemies and allies. Both young and old. And that night they could only find one thing to discuss.

"When do you think the hero will return?" The Sheikah spy said in a hopeful tone, leaning back and training his red eyes to the stars. The wandering soldier snorted.

"You actually believe those fairy tales?" The Soldier asked, "If there was a Hero, then my comrades would still be alive."

"The Hylian is right, my brother." The Yiga agreed, "We put too much hope in this Hero. We all expect him to come and save us from our wars, but in the end, what does it matter? Hero or not, both sides are at fault and he will always chose the same side."

"Of course you would say that, traitor." The Sheikah grunted, too tired from travel to even care that he ate beside his family's mortal foe. The Yiga shrugged.

"I mean, it is true. The Hylians have killed and taken lives as well, and they never take the blame. The Hero stops that blame from ever reaching them. Where ever he appears, wars end. He is a war ender. But because he is always a Hylian, no one ever wants to admit they are wrong. Especially with Hylia and and the Triforce on their side. Who would dare argue with fate?" The Yiga raised his fist in rage before letting it fall in defeat, "But some one has to stand strong against the guilty accusers. Even if fate would deem my tribe dead for resisting. It just seems wrong and unfair that the Hylians get it all while the rest of us are left in it's shadow. I'm proud to fight for the Eye of the Yiga. I'm sure you, brother, are just as proud of your Eye of the Sheikah for whatever reasons you may have, but this is not a battle nor a mission, so why waste our time in arguing over such matters? Didn't we all come here to rest?" The Sheikah lowered his eyes to the fire.

"I suppose you are right, traitor. Tonight we drink and make merry, tomorrow, the war will set us sword against sword. Though I do not doubt the Yiga will fall at my blade."

"You could well try, brother, but there is none mightier than I." The Yiga chuckled.

"I like a good challenge." The Goron said, crossing his arms, "It is obvious the Goron are the mightiest tribe."

"If only from the rocks they consume." The boy laughed, "I mean, a Goron once tried feeding one to me and I left it very confused." The people around the fireplace chuckled. They each imagined how the conversation must have gone. While Gorons were very friendly to the Hylians, they had trouble remembering that Hylians weren't as strong or as capable of consuming stones as they were.

"Well, if we must brag about the mightiest tribes," The Gerudo said, "It is clearly the Gerudos."

"Oh?" The Farmer asked, "And why is that?"

"Haven't you heard of the all woman tribe of the Gerudos? Fearsome warriors in any battle. Only the Hero could match their grace and skill. They are all tall with red hair and fight to thrive in the harsh desert. But!" The Soldier leaned in to the Farmer, "Be careful around those lovely ladies, because they will rob you blind." The Farmer looked up at the Gerudo woman in alarm.

"Rob me?!" He said with a strangled yelp. The boy doubled over in laughter. The Gerudo who was beside him, joined the boy in his teasing.

"That is in the past. Only Gerudo mercenaries rob Hylians anymore. Most Gerudos put up with Hylains for the chance of gaining a husband. No worries."

"Oh!" The Farmer said, perking up and and studying the Gerudo, "So I assume you're traveling for a husband?"

"No, I'm a mercenary." The Gerudo shrugged. The Farmer paled again. This time everyone laughed. The Farmer rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

"What about the Zora?" The Zora said as their laughter died down, "Surely there is none mightier than they? We can swim at incredible speeds, breath in the water, and control all of Hyrule's reservoirs."

"But have you met your king?" The Soldier teased. The Zora reddened and shrugged.

"He is the mightiest of us all. Stronger than even the biggest of sharks." He defended.

"Electricity." The Yiga pointed out and the Zora shuttered.

"Point made, but we are still a force to be reckoned with should any foe cross into our territory."

"That I don't doubt, brother." The Goron said, patting the Zora on the back who winced.

"Well, if any tribe is the mightiest." The Soldier said, "It's mine, the Hylians. Not because of those old legends and stories, as most have come to believe, and I know the credit for our technological advancements are due towards the Yiga and Sheikah, although now divided. No. We are the mightiest because of or wisdom and diplomacy. We are good at making deals. Good at searching for peace or forming alliances. Because of that, our ancient bloodline still services alongside or Sheikah counterparts." The Yiga frowned.

"Hylains." He said, rolling his eyes, "So proud and cocky. They believe they can figure out how to solve all our problems."

"You're one to talk, traitor." The Shekiah teased, "Or who was the tribe that got cocky and proud and defected from everyone else so that they might decide what is best for the land?" Everyone laughed at that. The Yiga crossed his arms and glared at the Sheikah.

"Once the Hero is dead, I will find you." The Yiga vowed.

"Oh, no! I've wounded his pride! Now I must die for it!" The Sheikah said, dramatically falling backwards as if he had been stabbed. They all laughed harder. The Yiga, though thoroughly offended, managed to crack a smile at seeing a member of his brother tribe lighten up as though a war did not burden him.

"Don't worry Sheikah Warrior! I shall avenge you!" The boy said, waving a non-existent sword in the air and pretending to stab the Yiga. The Yiga pretended to gasp, clutching the pretend wound.

"No! I have been slain by the Hylian! But no matter! For the Might of the Yiga shall live on!" He cried before falling back dramatically and laying still. Their laughter grew even more. The Yiga and Sheikah laid there for a minute before the boy got bored and began to poke at the Yiga's hair with his a twig.

"Come on! I was only pretending! Stop being dead!"

"Augh! Foolish Hylian! Don't you know it is rude to wake the dead?" The Yiga complained, sitting up. The boy stuck out his tongue. The Yiga crossed his arms and growled. Meanwhile, the Sheikah said up and brushed off his gi.

"Well," The Gerudo said, "That was rather dramatic, but then again, young ones seem to make everyone's day brighter." She ruffled the boy's golden hair playfully.

"I do try." The boy shrugged, "The war makes people sad. I don't like it. But I like it here. Here, although it is only temporary, everyone is happy, despite our differences, because we are all tired travelers just looking for a place to rest. It's times like these that remind me what's important. What people fight for. On both sides of the war, that is. It saddens me to know tomorrow a lot of us will die in the war or will be fighting each other or be without a friend or a place to call home, but for tonight, I'm glad to call strangers, men and women whose names I do not know, friends. And a lowly campfire at a refugee's campsite to call home." Everyone fell silent, thinking about the young boy's insightful words. The Soldier spoke first.

"Well, if we are friends, even if it is just for tonight, I wish to help ease a burden I've carried from the battlefields in Hyrule field. If you would hear me, of course, and each swear a oath of brothers and sisters to keep our one night friendship true and hold my words as secret?" He asked. They all agreed, even the Yiga. The Soldier looked solemnly down at the fireplace.

"I used to be one of many. I was the best fighter in my group. We proudly marched to war, ready to fight. I was the leader, and lead them I did. We fought together, laughed together, sang together, ate together. We were, at the the heart of all the pain and horrors around us, brothers." The Soldier shook his head, "But I should have been a better leader. A better brother. For one day all of our victories and stories were lost and on that day, I became one. Alone in a war, terrified, with all of my comrades dead. And then it became clear to me, that Hero or not, the war is still cruel and people still die. Nothing could change it. So I decided to stop believing in silly legends. True or not, they did me no good and would not bring my comrades back. All that mattered was winning the war so their sacrifice was not in vain." The Soldier was obviously holding back his tears, for a Hylian Soldier had to remain strong and noble. They fireplace was silent again as they all empathised with his words. They had all lost something to the war. The Sheikah spoke next.

"Your burden is upon us now, brave soldier, we bear it, now, take some of mine, but swear an oath of brothers and sisters to keep our night of friendship true and hold my words as secrets?" The Sheikah requested. They all agreed, even the Yiga.

"I was once weak, but the war made me strong." The Sheikah admitted as he clutched the handle of his blade, "As a boy I was naive, always pretending that the war was nothing to me. I was safe in my village. I was too young for war. When I grew older, I told myself, the war would be over and I would be free to do as I please. But then," The Sheikah winced, now cradling his blade in his hands, "The village was attacked by the Yiga, and I, though still young and hardly trained at all, was the sole survivor. I learned that day that war yields for no one, no matter how pure or young or small. I knew that day I was to become strong for my people if I ever wished to survive the war. All I had to guide me were legends and stories that my people had taught me in my youth, and my blade that was given to me by my teacher who had once believed me capable of great things. I know not if I am still naive to believe the legends are true. To still trust in the Hero's spirit and Hylia's blood, but I do, with all my heart I do. For it is the legacy of my village, and it is my strength. It is sad, but it is the truth." The Yiga pat his trembling foe on the back in comfort.

"Your burden is on us now, brother, we bear it, now, if you would, carry some of mine, but swear an oath of brothers and sisters to keep our night of friendship true and hold my words as secrets?" The Yiga requested. They all agreed, even the Sheikah.

"I am sorry for what my people did to your home." The Yiga began sincerely, "But that is the way of war."

"Of course." The Sheikah mumbled, "War is cruel."

"Yes, it is. Which is why I, like you, believe in legends. I do believe in the Hero, and the Goddesses, and the Triforce. When I was but a teenager in the Sheikah tribe, my father and I decided that we wished to go to the castle to serve Hylia's bloodline as is traditional. On our travels, we came across a camp of Hylian Soldiers. They saw our clothes and they saw our white hair and red eyes and did not come to the conclusion that we were Sheikah, but rather, Yiga. They attacked us, and my father perished. Upon seeing I was just a boy, they spared me. Sadly, the damage was done. I knew the truth. Not even Hylia's beloved are perfect. The Sheikah had made us believe this was true, but it wasn't. For none of those men ever paid for the wrong they did to me because they were the chosen people, and it is wrong to offend or accuse the chosen ones of any wrong doing. Then, the Yiga found me, alone with nowhere to go, and I learned more about the legends. I learned things that made me hope… hope that one day both sides would receive justice for their wrong doings." The Yiga looked to the Sheikah, "I cannot hope to sway you. You love Hylia's people too much. But I do beg of you to understand my pain. A war like this is not one sided. People on both sides die and get hurt. But when the dust settles, I know they will look for someone to blame. In the end, despite how hard I try, the blame will always fall on those opposed to the Hylians. It's always been that way. Still… I could only hope… only fight for… justice and closure." The Sheikah nodded.

"That, I could understand." He agreed. They all silently agreed as well. They all wished for justice for those who did them wrong and closure for those they had lost.

"It is my turn." The Farmer decided, "Your burden is upon us now, fierce Yiga, we bear it, carry some of mine now, if you could, but swear an oath of brothers and sisters to keep our night of friendship true and hold my words as secrets?" They all agreed.

"I had a family once, I'm not sure where she went. I sent her away, and I am likely never to see her again. I had a beautiful daughter. When the war started, she was afraid. I vowed to protect her. I told her I would not let the war harm her. She trusted me. And we remained on our humble farm in hopes to out wait it. Time passed, and we couldn't even tell we was at war. It was always still. Always peaceful. Always the same. It was like the war was just a nightmare that we dreamt of, but wasn't real. Then, one day, the war became real to us. We heard the sounds of soldiers marching, and the Hylian men came to us seeking refuge. We humbly allowed them to stay. She tended the wounded and I insured they all had a place to rest. Then, as I listened to them talking, I realized that the enemy would soon find them in my home. My fields and my farm were soon to become a battlefield, whether I wished it or not. So, I sent my daughter away, remembering my promise to protect her from the war. That was the last I saw her before the attack. I'm not sure who to blame for my home's destruction. The Hylians for lodging there and drawing the enemy to it, or the enemy for attacking, not realizing it was my home. Either way, it was destroyed. I did my best to tend to the injured, both Hylains and Yiga. Sheikah and Beast. In that time I saw many terrible things. Like this Yiga, I can say, both sides of the war suffer greatly, and I left that place a changed man." They all imagined that luxury of pretending the war didn't exist only to lose it and wake up to the terrible reality. They shuttered.

"Might I go?" The Zora asked, "Your burden is upon us now, humble farmer, we all bear it, could you carry some of my own as well? But swear an oath of brothers and sisters to keep our night of friendship true and hold my words as secrets." They all agreed.

"I am homesick." The Zora admitted, "I have been moving across Hyrule along the minor rivers and streams, but nothing is like my home in Zora's Domain. When the war started, they King said, 'the Hylian needs us! Let us go serve Zelda, Naryu and Hylia's pardoned, and fight in this war!' And like all of the young men and women my age, I did not hesitate to join. After all, war is glorious and the battles we would win would bring honor to my tribe." The Zora laughed bitterly, everyone with him, "But they'll say anything to get you to fight. I have been in many battles. I have patrolled so many places. I have seen so much, both good and bad. The good often touched my soul, the bad often made me sick with horror. But, at the end of the day, I would lay down and look at the stars simply missing my home. My people. My family. Of course, I couldn't go back, I'd be called a coward forever. So, I stayed. I dealt with the terrors. I put up with the patrols and the work. I endured boring watches. I swallowed my homesickness and reminded myself I am no coward. I would not return until I was dismissed, wounded, dead, or the war was over. Though, if I am honest, and I am sure we all feel similar. I would rather not die. Sure, we men and women boast that we would die for our cause, but in the end, even if we aren't cowards, even if we are very brave, we do fear the idea of dying and never seeing our homes again… or… at least the memory of it for those who no longer can call any place their home."

"No truer words have been spoken." The Gerudo agreed, "I'd like to think fearing death is natural, but in order to become stronger in this world, one must overcome it."

"I don't fear death." The boy said suddenly, "At least, if I do, I have overcome it and came to terms with it a long time ago. My father taught me that fear exists in everyone, but it's when we learn not to let that fear to control us that we truly become brave like the Hero in the stories. So, I… though unsettled by the idea of it… know that when my time comes and I face death head on, I will not be afraid of it. I will simply look back at all I've done and know… I am content." The Goron grinned.

"Then you, brother, are the bravest of us." The Goron said, "I would like to go, if you would allow. Your burden is upon us now, Zora brother, and we all bear it. Now, would you hold the smallest of mine, but swear an oath of brothers and sisters to keep our night of friendship and hold my words as secrets?"

"Of course." They all agreed.

"My tribe is known for being strong. We must be, for our work in the deadly mountains requires it. Our courage almost matches this young brother's. It almost matches the courage of the Hero himself. But… even Gorons can be afraid. I left my home to help the Hylians in the war as my Zora brother did. Many of my friends came with me. We sometimes saw the lines. We sometimes didn't. Whatever the case, we'd boast about how mighty our feats were to each other. Sometimes telling our stories taller than Goro Bother Dimou, if you get what I mean. But in all truthfulness, it was easier to boast about our victories as all Gorons love to do than to admit the truth. To admit that whatever we did glimpse from the war is the truth. The terrible… terrible truth. I know not if my fellow brothers fear being thought of as weak or cowardly after seeing what a war can do to people. Even Gorons, the toughest of races, can get hurt by it's battles. It's better to boast about what went right in a battle that to tremble over all that did or could have gone wrong." The Goron huffed, "So, I admit today, that even I, a Goron, can feel fear in a war. But like the young one here. I have learned to be contempt with my fear and overcome it."

"Well good for you." The Gerudo cheered, hand in the air like holding an invisible cup to toast him, "You've succeeded in this war. I can speak for most of us when I say I envy you."

"Well, what about you?" The boy urged her. The Gerudo woman rolled her eyes.

"Okay, fine. I'll go. If I must. Your burden is on us now and all that nonsense. Swear the oath and just keep this all between us. It's bad enough I'm stuck at a campfire of a bunch of Voe. Now I have to share." She sat up, "To be honest, the Gerudo have suffered a lot from this world's wars. With several of Demises' incarnations being a male Gerudo, we began to simply ban men from our home. If a male Gerudo is born, we allow the father to raise him and the Hylian people to watch carefully over him. We rule under a chief now, and not a king. Life is great now… except, you know... the war… and the fact that Gerudo actually have to not only leave the city to find husbands during a war, but also fight in said war to insure their are Voe left to marry… so yeah… it could be better. Originally, I left the city in search for a husband. I thought it would be simple as I promised my mother I would bring her a wonderful gerudo granddaughter with news of a good husband who was willing to let me travel from the desert and back with our child. Then, of course, the war started, and I had to face reality. If I wanted to survive long enough to even find that match, which is apparently rare and makes me marvel at how our kind has survived for so long, I needed to make some changes. At first, I fought for the Hylians. Seemed simple enough. I mean, the legends always said the Hylians had the goddess's respect. Then, of course, I ran out of the money my mother had lent me to search for my match. I grew frustrated, and I resorted to… less ideal ways… the ways of my ancestors… to survive. Of course, no Hylian loves a thief. So I left them and fought for both sides. Hoping to somehow find an end to this war… a Hero as you all describe it… to one day bring peace so the running… the hiding… the stealing… the lies… and the heartbreak can stop and I can finally fulfill the promise I made to my mother so long ago. Of course, war does not seem to end. Why would it? For In war there is no hope for such simple things." The Gerudo growled.

"That isn't true." The boy said. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on him as he sat up and raised his right hands.

"I solemnly vow to carry all of your burdens on my shoulders, I think I could bear it all. I know how to. All I ask is for you to listen, for I could not hope to make you take my burden on your shoulders. Swear an oath of brothers and sisters to keep our night of friendship, treat my words as secrets, learn from my trails, and to not try and take the weight only I can bear?" They all stared at him puzzled, but nodded numbly. The boy grinned, leaning back and fiddling with a small slingshot in his hands.

"I knew my parents once, but they died when I was little." He began, "I was raised in the city. All my life I dreamed of becoming a knight, but the others at the orphanage said I couldn't. When the war started, they said even if I could, I was too small. I would die in the first battle I fought. I never believed them. When I turned ten, I decided I had enough and I left the city. I wanted to see the war. I wanted to know what it was that everyone was so afraid of. At first, I was uncertain. For the city was the only place I knew as home… even if I was bullied and treated like a peasant. But I had always had that longing, that calling like I was meant to do more. Life… it had to have a greater meaning than just surviving so that you would die. Life… it had to mean something more. So… despite all the warnings I got, I snuck onto a armory wagon leaving the city and stole a long knife to use as my defense. It was a stupid thing for a kid to do, but I did it without second thoughts. Who ever said Hylains were wise never knew of me. No, I was not wise. But for what I lacked in wisdom, I made up for in my compassion and street smarts. Clever, they called me, though I haven't a faintest clue why since I've never felt too terribly clever. When I got to the front lines, I snuck out form my hiding spot an found another, and behold, I saw the war." The people around the campfire gasped, imagining a child so young seeing such things.

"And when I did." The boy shook his head, "I cried. There was no sense to the war. No justice. No closure. No hope for peace or end. There was only death. Only suffering. Only hurt. The world was falling apart. One half begged and prayed for their Hero to come and save them, the other hated or did not believe the Hero would come. Neither side knew that they were all being dumb. They let their anger at each other cloud their judgment and cloud their eyes on who the real enemy was. Who the enemy has always been. Demise. He saw me. I remember it. His glare sent trembles through my body because I knew his stare well. Just like the bullies and adults who tormented me, the shy, quiet boy with no mother or father, he took pleasure in stoking the war and chaos. He took pleasure in making them all die. And I despised him for it."

"Wait… what?" The Sheikah said, suddenly giving the boy a second glance, though most of he group was more intrigued with the odd story than the boy himself.

"So, on that day, I promised to become a knight. I promised to somehow… someway make things better. I assume a boy like me couldn't do much, but I knew I would very well try. I returned to the city immediately and signed up to at least start training. They rejected me, because I was small. The small ones are often weak, they said. They aren't brave enough, they will die. I told them I didn't care if I died as long as I did something to help. They laughed and said a boy like me was useless. So, I did the dumbest thing any ten year old boy who is cocky could do and pulled the long knife I stole on them." The group gasped. Terrified at the thought.

"Two days." He grumbled, "Stuck in that holding cell over a mesley sword. I'm sure if I had left and told the kids at the orphanage about it they would have teased me and called me a liar. 'He's too quiet and gentle to do such a thing. He is just desperate to make himself look stronger so we leave him alone.' That's what I'm sure they would have said. I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. For after the second day, a Shekiah lady came to fetch me. She asked if I was brave. She called me 'little one.' Then she brought me to were the other boys trained and told them to train me too. They objected, of course. But I showed them. I didn't mean to, I really didn't, but I loved being a swordsman. After the first year, despite what everyone said about me, I was an expert. I was obsessed. I trained hard and I practiced. I kept to myself and I found entertainment in the little things. Simple puzzles. Chores. Tasks. Little games I made for myself. I did all I was asked with no complaint, following out every task with silence and respect. I was the envy of the school, because I was a lefty. But I was useless in battle. So, I promised to learn right too. And I did. I learned right and left. I became very good…" The boy paused, suddenly trembling, "Then the incident happened." Everyone leaned forwards, all intrigued now.

"We were all asleep. Not a sound in the dorms… well… almost all of us. I had snuck out to the archery range in hopes to see if I was any good. I was great with my slingshot at the orphanage, though I wouldn't have dared used it on anyone there. I wanted to see how I would do with a bow. I found one my size and discovered I was quite good with the bow, even in the poor light… but then, I heard it… as I readied another arrow I heard the sounds of footsteps. I shouldn't have been able to, since they were so far away. Perhaps the legends about Hylian ears are true? I am not sure. All I knew was that there was danger. I ran to my dorm and grabbed my sword and shield, still with my bow and quiver already strapped on. That's when I saw them. The most horrible beasts. I recognized them as Demise's creatures that fought in the war and I knew I needed to warn my fellow knights in training. I yelled, while running towards the alarm bells, despite its being blocked by the beasts. I cried, 'wake up!' and 'It is an attack!' one by one, my friend stirred and I faced the monsters alone as they slowly came to their senses. There were a lot of them. I can't say how many. But I fought them hard. I knew I had to, or the others would die. I didn't want to do it alone, but I still had to. The guards weren't there yet and the others hadn't woken up enough to do a thing. So, I killed them. I killed every single monster alone. When the guards came and the kids all went out to see what was going on, all they saw was me. For I had already won the battle."

"Impossible." The Yiga breathed, his eyes widening slightly.

"I was glad to have save them all. But that day they took me from the academy and presented me to Zelda. They knighted me when I was only thirteen. I was so excited at first. I had accomplished my dream. But I didn't know… I didn't understand the burdens that would soon follow that one act of courage." They boy lowered his gaze to the fire and he carelessly smiled. His face was kind and his eyes were gentle but very tired.

"I'm fifteen now, and I am alone again. I don't know exactly where my story is going or where my place is in this war yet, but after hearing all of your stories and struggles…" He closed his eyes and placed his hand over his heart, "I think I understand a little more. War isn't fair. Sometimes we get to choose what side we are on like the Yiga and Sheikah do. Sometimes it is forced upon us by a sense of duty or the expectations of our people. Sometimes we chose to stay neutral. We try to wait it out and hope for the best. But in war hope is hard to find. It makes sense that it would be. When everything around you dies. When nothing around you seems fair or just. When you find that even the little things… like memories of home or the faintest wish of finding the one you love are all you have to drive you to move forwards. I envy you all for having that. I never miss home, for I don't have one… though I long for it. I never thought I would love, though the idea of it seems nice yet impossible. I never could understand why I should be anything but content with my death. But you have given me a little hope by sharing your burdens with me and each reminding me there is still something worth fighting for, even if I myself have nothing to lose by living or dying in this. Even if the hope is a little… just enough to help me through the nightmares and the hurt all around me and in my sleep… it will do just fine for me. I hope it can do the same for you." The boy lowered his head, opening his eyes.

"Well said, little hero." The Yiga said, clapping. His eyes dancing in amusement, "If we should meet another day, I'm sure it would be interesting on us both, wouldn't it, young one?"

"Likely would, yes." The boy chuckled.

"But tonight we never met." The Yiga said, winking at the boy.

"I don't even know your name." The boy replied.

"Nor do I know yours, so we never met."

"Well, little hero. I am honored to meet such a young Hylian knight." The Sheikah agreed, "Thank you for your story and for carrying our burdens." The boy cocked his head.

"So, what? Are we done with these stories? Cause I play a mean ocarina and would love a sing along now." He asked, much to everyone's surprise. They all stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. He was still just a boy after all. They began to sing along to the boy's music and they rest of the night was merry and full of laughter between strangers whom, for one night called one another friend.

The morning came and the boy left on his horse to seeking out any battles. The soldier continued on his quest back to the castle to report the battle he'd lost. The Gerudo returned to Gerudo City explaining the problem that was the war to her mother. The Zora finished his time as an officer happier than before, not longing for home so much as hoping for the day he'd see it again. The Goron returned to the war, still afraid, but full of any sort of courage. The Sheikah delivered his message to the Princess of Hyrule as he was instructed, his faith in the legends about the Hero more resolved than ever. The Yiga however was the strangest of all.

He returned to the base once his time of searching was over. His boss came to him, asking if he had discovered anything linked to the hero reborn. The Yiga simply shook his head and shrugged.

"Surely, if I had come across the Hero reborn, I would have learned of his name. But, alas. I do not know his name. No one does. It has been lost to the legends of old." He said simply and it was left at that. Two years had passed and the war continued on. Rumors spread through the land that the Hero had returned. The Yiga was sent to investigate, when he stumbled across a certain boy playing with his ocarina without a care it the world and a slingshot resting beside him.

"Hello stranger." The Yiga said to the boy. The boy lower his instrument and smiled.

"Hello to you to."

"Do you remember that night, little hero? That one all those years ago?" The Yiga asked.

"I suppose I wouldn't. I don't believe it happened. If it did, surely I would be bound by oath not to speak of what occurs that night."

"Because we've never met." The Yiga said. The boy nodded, a playful smile on his face.

"Because we've never met."

"Because if I had met you, I would have surely learnt your name."

"And I would have learnt yours." The boy agreed, standing up and gathering his things.

"So, then, Hero reborn." The Yiga said, "They never said you'd be a normal kid. A little boy that no one would notice. No one would think twice about sitting around a campfire telling stories. No one would think twice about until that little boy finally opened his mouth to speak."

"Well, I never was much for words, but when I say them, people tend to listen. But… never the people who matter." He shrugged.

"Then Hero reborn? Answer a question many want to know." The Yiga said, drawing his sword. The boy turned away and smiled, drawing his own blade. And thus the war continued, but both were content.

* * *

 _AN: (You don't have to read this if you really don't want a random explanation of this one-shot.)_

 _Inspired slightly by the story of the WWI Christmas truce. This story was designed to take a closer look at how Hyrule views the wars going on around them. I even chose to represent a person fighting for Ganon's side. Each story talked about the different struggles each person went through, whether big or small. Even the Yiga, who is one of the known Zelda enemies in the games and lore, has a side of the war. Each person has problems and seem to be searching for answers. It's like that a lot in the games too (though the guys in the games are more of looking for items or bananas *Cough* Yiga *Cough*.) I still thought it would be fun to try and bring some background characters to life and see their points of view on the cycle and the wars._

 _This story was also designed to make the reader see how Hyrule must often see Link. Throughout this story, Link is with this group of people, joking around and telling stories just like all of the rest of them. The entire story, none of them realised that while they debated over whether or not the Hero was real or whether or not he was even good enough, the Hero was sitting right with them. Then, at the end, as the Yiga and Sheikah began to understand who he was, they both treated him differently. The Yiga denied knowing him. The Sheikah was honored to be with him. It took only a kid's story to change how a lot of the people in this story viewed their war. From what I've seen, Link, being the hero who saves the day and the main character, is always forgotten in the legends, only remembered as the Hero. And everyone expects the new hero to be some amazing person when it is just a normal boy who could be anyone._

 _It's all really weird when I look back at it, but I thought it be neat to write a story that pointed out those things in the Zelda world that I always thought added to the franchises charm. Of course, I could just be crazy and a serious Zelda nerd, but whatever works!_


End file.
